


two steps forward

by QueenCamellia



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura (Voltron)-centric, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Allura (Voltron), F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-02 23:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16797130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenCamellia/pseuds/QueenCamellia
Summary: Instead of waking up in the Castle of Lions, Allura awakens from her ten-thousand year slumber to find herself on Earth.(or: Allura acclimates to Earth culture, joins the Garrison, gains new perspectives, develops more as a character, and accidentally affects the plot a lot.)(Now a fix-it.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As I was writing, I realized this fic had a sort of Hercules/Superman feel...and I am totally okay with that.

Allura awakens on the night of a meteor shower, which is somewhat fitting. Her eyes flutter open to meet a majestic sight. The stars glow brightly overhead, twinkling faintly in the night sky like beacons amongst darkness. Past the shimmering blue mist emitting from her capsule, her eyes can discern two shadowy figures, their silhouettes barely illuminated by the moonlight.

One of the figures leans over her. Even in her exhausted, confused state, Allura struggles to keep awake, panic surging in her veins. She feels something cool touch her forehead, a comforting touch similar to that of her mother’s.

The gentle hand that rests upon her forehead is enough for Allura to relax and her eyelids to droop. Somehow, her body recognizes that she is safe here. 

She lets the encroaching darkness of sleep overcome her.

When she sleeps, Allura dreams of fields of juniberry flowers, their sweet scent enveloping her in a comforting sense of  _ home. _ A smile stretches across her lips; she tries to lean forward to reach for one of the delicate flowers, but finds herself paralyzed. She tries again, this time more desperately.

Her outstretched fingers grasp nothing but air. 

A sigh resounds from behind her, then she feels a weight settle on her shoulder.

_ “I’m sorry, my daughter.” _

Allura wakes up in tears, a sob wrenching from her throat as her eyes snap open. Tears spill freely down her cheeks, tracing the contours of her face and falling upon the pristine white sheets. Even in her emotional state, Allura is compartmentalizing, acting like the intelligent girl who her parents had raised her to be. As she wipes away her tears, the Altean princess’s gaze sweeps across the room.

She’s in a bed, Allura registers quickly. It’s less comfortable than the luxurious, comfortable bedding that she’s accustomed to, but she can adapt.

Her father had always stressed the importance of adaptability: he often spoke of the importance of change, of progress, of—

Her brain momentarily freezes.

_ Father. _

Allura nearly rips the covers in her haste to throw them off. With shaking hands, she tries to half-crawl, half-roll off the bed. Unfortunately, Allura had underestimated her ability to  _ move _ after an extended stay in a cryptopod, and her pitiful attempt to get out of bed ends in failure.

Footsteps patter on the wooden floor. It’s only then that Allura realizes she must be in some sort of abode: the room is nothing like that of an Altean’s, with its various decorative touches that give the room a less regal but more  _ homey _ feeling. The walls are a warm shade of orange and the furniture shades of brown and gold.

Someone enters the room, still chattering relentlessly. “—ake up eventually, and she’ll need food. What do you—oh my  _ god!” _

Allura’s eyes swerve towards the source of the voice and find a woman who looks scarcely older than her. The woman doesn’t look like an Altean: her ears are strangely small, and there are no markings on her cheeks. But she  _ does _ look much more similar to Alteans than the majority of alien species that Allura has encountered. Like the rest of the cozy room, the woman feels like  _ warmth:  _ her skin is a natural beige tone and her widened eyes, which lock on Allura immediately, are hazel.

“You’re awake,” the woman gasps, nearly dropping her tray of food. She flails wildly for a second, then whips around and calls, “Adam, she’s awake!”

In a matter of seconds, a man stumbles into the bedroom, probably to verify the woman’s claims. He looks similar to her: they share the same chocolate locks and hazel eyes, though he’s significantly taller. “I’m glad to see you’re alright,” he tells Allura, smiling. 

His gentle eyes remind her of Mother.

The woman nudges him with her hip, still carrying the tray. “What if she doesn’t speak the language?” she hisses under her breath, panicked. “English isn’t really the univ—”

“Thank you for your generous help,” Allura replies, silencing their worries. Both of them relax minisculely. “I’m sorry, but...where is this? Where am I?”

“My home, right in the middle of the desert!” the woman proclaims proudly, jabbing a thumb at her chest. “My name’s Evelyn—you can call me Lynn, by the way—and this is my cousin, Adam.”

It’s not exactly what Allura meant, but nonetheless, it’s still information. Immediately, she files away the information in a tidy corner of her mind: as the princess of an advanced civilization, she had been raised to consider all information essential, no matter how insignificant they might initially seem. Though Allura never thought that reading body language would be of much help outside of diplomacy, she finds that her skill helps her now.

The pair standing before her carry themselves with an air of confidence; they’re not afraid of her. Judging by their expressions and posture, however, they don’t appear to be hostile. On the contrary, they remind her of the scientists back in Altea, who always had sparks of curiosity shining in their eyes.

Adam sighs, crossing his arms over his chest as he clarifies, “You’re on a planet called Earth. We don’t know what your people may call it, but we call our galaxy the Milky Way.”

Allura had been trained from a young age about the planets and how to navigate the stars. Though she never completed her training, she still knows a decent amount of planets and galaxies; “Earth” is not one of them, which means that either Earth’s technology is primitive or this planet is  _ very _ far away from home. It’s also possible that it could be  _ both. _

Allura bites her lip nervously.

This is bad.  _ Very _ bad.

“I’m afraid I don’t recognize those names,” she says apologetically. “You...what are your people called?”

Adam and Lynn exchange glances. They had obviously concluded about her otherworldliness, but she can’t fathom why they seem so surprised. Surely...Earth has welcomed  _ some _ alien visitors?

“Humans,” Lynn answers, setting down the tray of food on the bedside table. “You...who are you? Where do you come from? Can you even eat this kind of food? What’s with the high-tech pod which you landed in?”

“Lynn,” Adam cuts into the conversation, thankfully stopping the barrage of questions. “Patience.”

The brunette’s nose wrinkles. “I already get enough of that from your Shiro, thank you very much,” she says, a pretty flush spreading across Adam’s face at her dismissive comment. “You don’t need to lecture me, too!”

“Takashi’s not... _ mine!” _ Adam sputters. “He’s just someone I admire very much. His pilot skills and leadership abilities—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know already,” Lynn cuts him off irritably. “You rant about him every moment he’s not here—which is  _ pretty often,  _ you know. Don’t forget to bring him along next time you swing by!”

The animated brunette turns to Allura. “My questions aren’t annoying, are they?” she demands.

“I, uh, not particularly—”

“Exactly!”

Adam’s patience very obviously wears thin. “Let the girl speak, won’t you?” he sighs exasperatedly. Obediently, his cousin silences, giving Allura the floor.

“My name is Allura. I am the daughter of King Alfor, the creator of Voltron, and the princess of Altea,” she explains. “We Alteans are one of the most advanced civilizations in the universe, and we were in the middle of waging war against the Galra…”

Slowly, her memories begin to return to her, and Allura is horrified. 

She remembers.

_ Father. Mother. _

“You said that my cryo-pod landed here, didn’t you?” she asks quickly. “Was there another?”

_ Coran.  _ Father had also forced him into one in hopes that he would guide her. She was supposed to wake up in the Castle of Lions: why is Allura  _ here? _

Adam is the first to recover from her explanation. “We just found you—and that was pure luck,” he explains. “It’s strange, but for some reason, I don’t think any of our scanners picked up on your...pod’s landing. If we hadn’t been driving around the desert, we never would’ve saw you.”

Her heart sinks.

“I see,” she says, as steadily as she can. The information shakes her to her core, and it takes all the strength she has to mask her grief at her realization.

Allura is alone.

“Hey,” Adam says gently, placing a hand on Allura’s shoulder. “We don’t know what you’re going through right now, and we may not know you well, but...you’re welcome to stay here. Lynn can get you up to speed on Earth’s customs, and in the meanwhile, maybe we can figure out some way to get you back home.”

_ Home. _

Allura wants to cry and laugh at the same time, suddenly struck by the severity of the cruel truth.

Altea is  _ gone. _

And so are her people.

Though Allura knows that it’s unhealthy, she pushes aside her grief in favor of cold, hard logic. She can mourn later. Right now, she needs to know how much time had passed since the Galra invaded Altea. She needs to know if they’re still a threat; if so, it’s her duty to stop them.

If she had been in the Castle of Lions, the database surely would have provided some information about the time, at least, but Allura doubts she’ll find such structures here on Earth. Still, it’s a stroke of luck that the first beings she meets are friendly: there are much, much more territorial and unwelcoming planets that she could have landed on.

“Thank you,” she says softly. “I...that would be wonderful.”

“Of course, princess…” Adam pauses. “Your highness? Your excellency?”

“Allura is just fine,” she answers with a smile, and although she is nowhere near alright, she finds herself feeling a bit better when the cousins beam at her.

Her father had always instructed her to keep moving forward, no matter the obstacles or failures she might meet.

_ I will, Father. I promise. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Earth is...an interesting planet, at the very least, with various customs that Allura will have to adjust to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> confession: Lynn was originally intended for adashi development, helping Allura get used to Earth, etc. but she grew on me as I was writing this ahaha  
> p.s. my writing, contrary to what the first chapter may have led you to believe, loves dialogue. mmhm.

Adam and Lynn are kind people.

Besides questioning her identity on the first day, they don’t push about her past or how she ended up crashing into the desert; for that, Allura is grateful. When she divulges bits and pieces about the circumstances which led her to Earth, they simply pat her on the back and draw her into a group hug. They’re straightforward, sincere people, unlike the politicians who dance around affairs and speak with thinly veiled ulterior motives. Some may derisively call the cousins idealistic, but Allura finds their kindness to be their greatest strength.

“Adam’s a full-fledged Garrison member now, so that’s why he had to leave,” Lynn explains, hustling about the kitchen as she prepares breakfast. “He usually tries to drop by and check in on me every month or so, though.” 

The young woman is in her element; she flutters around the kitchen with ease, grabbing herbs and spices and masterfully seasoning the soup. Allura, on the other hand, awkwardly fumbles with the knife in her hand. It had taken a few days, but she is slowly learning her way around the kitchen; her position had even upgraded from ingredient girl to vegetable mincer. 

It’s an enlightening experience: Allura had never taken the time to appreciate the skill, time, and effort put into her meals before, but she does now.

“Garrison member?” Allura echoes questioningly.

“Well, we’re probably a zillion years behind your fancy tech,” Lynn says cheerfully, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like  _ “simple pod, my ass.”  _

She beams and motions for Allura to put the minced garlic in the large pot of bubbling soup, then continues, “But Earth’s been putting a lot of effort into space exploration, recently. It’s basically a military organization that trains promising cadets to be astro explorers; Adam just graduated two years ago, and they’ve been working hard to prepare to launch a bunch of explorations into deeper space!”

Allura hums thoughtfully. “Is that so?”

Lynn pauses, then whips around and squints at her. Raising her ladle threateningly, she says sternly, “Now, don’t you dare, young lady. I know that look of yours! Adam wore the exact same look when he started to consider joining the Garrison.”

Allura sighs, setting down the knife on the cutting board. “I need to find my people,” she stresses. “I need to know what’s going on out there. And this organization seems like my best chance on Earth to find the answers to my questions.”

Lynn is silent, for once.

“I have a duty to them, Lynn,” Allura emphasizes, wringing her hands. “I have a duty to the universe. And I’m very, very grateful for all that you and Adam have done for me, but I just...need to know. The Galra Empire had been near invincible when I was forced to sleep in my cryo-pod. I do not know how much time has passed since then, but I fear the worst. If they continue expanding, not even Earth will be safe, you know.”

“I know,” Lynn replies with a sigh. “It’s just—you’re the first alien to stumble across our planet, Allura. Or, at least, the first alien that  _ we _ know of.”

The woman’s features sober. 

“If you’re discovered, I can’t guarantee that the old, stuffy higher-ups will give you the freedom you want,” she explains. “You’re...you’d be seen as a  _ commodity _ to them. A lab specimen. That’s why Adam wants you to stay with me for awhile. The world isn’t as...kind as you might think.”

Realization dawns on her features. Immediately, Allura feels stupid for not realizing Lynn’s concerns earlier. “You’re right,” she concedes, suddenly re-evaluating her impression of the cousins. They are obviously more perceptive than she thought. “But I can’t just... _ stay _ here.”

Lynn shrugs, striding past Allura and grabbing two ceramic bowls from the kitchen cabinet. With swift movements, the brunette uses her ladle to fill the bowls with stew, then motions for them to sit down at the kitchen table. Allura takes some utensils from the drawer and sets them on the table before seating herself across from the brunette.

“Is this...pork?” Allura asks, testing out the novel word she had learned a few days prior.

“Beef,” Lynn corrects. Allura doesn’t see the difference between the two types of meat, but nods and examines the chunks of meat critically. In the meanwhile, it seems as if the brunette has reached a decision. 

Lynn exhales, then turns to her and wags her finger. “Okay, here’s the deal: I’ll talk to Adam about the Garrison. You’ll need to have pretty decent piloting skills if you want to get in, but I can’t help you with that. Instead, I’ll teach you a bit about our culture, okay? If you want to go to the Garrison, you’ll need to learn how to act like a normal Earthling.”

Allura pokes the beef warily with her fork.

Lynn pauses, then corrects herself. “Or a very...quirky Earthling.”

* * *

“First thing’s first! I’ve watched enough movies. We need to figure out how different your physical abilities are from humans. Can you fly?”

“With a spacecraft…?”

“...okay. Laser vision?”

“I...don’t think so?”

“Telekinesis?”

“I...not really?”

“Then...super strength?”

“I’m a bit stronger than the average Altean, I suppose.”

“...okay, how about we arm wrestle?”

“Arm...wrestle?”   


“I’ll teach you!”

_ Bam. _

“Gahhh!”

“I-I’m so sorry!”

“It’s...alright...how about you just stick to mimicking my strength, okay?”

“Yes…”

.

.

“So you call these cookies?”

“That’s right! Chocolate chip cookies. They taste pretty good, right? I have a giant stockpile of chocolate in the pantry; whenever Adam pisses me off, he always brings them as a peace offering.”

“Is that so?”

_ Crunch. _

“Do you like them?”

“They’re... _ amazing!” _

.

.

“...is this really music?”

“What can you say? I’m a pretty old fashioned girl. I like listening to 21st century music!”

“This device is very interesting, though. It doesn’t run on any crystals?”

“... _ probably _ not the kind you’re thinking of. Say, how about we watch a movie?”

“Movie?”

“Yep! I have some really old superhero ones. Ooh, actually, I have a show called Defenders of the Universe! Wanna check it out?”

“I don’t suppose why  _ not,  _ I suppose…”

.

.

“—not that I don’t appreciate her tenacity, but I don’t understand why she didn’t learn how to defend herself more.”

“Fala was a princess! She didn’t grow up fighting like they did. Besides, did you see how badass she was in some scenes?”

“Being a princess doesn’t mean she couldn’t take initiative and  _ learn.” _

“Okay, okay, how about we watch something a little more educational…”

“Educational?”

“I have almost every Superman movie! I’m a huge superhero geek. Let’s watch and analyze how you should and shouldn’t act.”

.

.

“Allura, are you—?”

“Look, Lynn! I made pancakes correctly!”

A pause.

“...they taste pretty great, actually. Nice work!”

A giggle.

.

.

“Hey, Lynn?”

“Something the matter, Allura?”

“...thank you — for all of this.”

A chuckle.

“Anytime, kiddo.”

.

.

“Adam should be visiting in a week or two. Seems like he’s pretty excited, huh...I wonder if it’s about his dear Shiro again.”

“You mentioned this person before...who is he?”

“Ah, just my dear cousin’s humongous crush.”

“Crush?”

“Ooh, how about we take a day and run through some good ol’ Earth slang?”

“I suppose that when acclimating to a culture, you should also learn the colloquial language…”

“That’s the spirit!”

.

.

_ Sizzle. _

_ Click. Click. _

“Hey, kiddo, want some bacon?”

“...”

“...Allura?”

“I’ve been thinking...it’s probably unlikely, but if there are other aliens— _ hostile _ aliens—here, they may recognize me. But, well, I’m afraid I don’t have any—”

“...are you asking for us to take a shopping trip?  _ Oh my gosh,  _ you are! This is perfect, holy shit; I’ve been wanting to dress you up since I first saw you. Besides, it’s been way too long since I’ve gotten out of the desert. Here, let me scribble a note in case Adam swings by, then we can take my bike there!”

.

.

* * *

For the first time since her arrival, Allura is outside. Of course, Lynn had technically taken her to the porch before, but that never felt truly  _ outside.  _ But this—this feeling of liberation, the exhilaration running through her veins, the wind rushing past her—  _ this  _ is outside.

“Tell me if I’m driving too quickly!” Lynn shouts over the deafening howls of the wind.

Allura  _ laughs.  _ “Drive faster!”

When they finally skid to a stop in front of a mall (which, Allura had learned, is essentially an upgraded market), Lynn grins at her and ruffles her hair affectionately. “You know, kiddo, you have the right personality for a pilot, at least. All of you guys are crazy adrenaline-junkies.”

To her satisfaction, Allura understands the term. Her studies of Earth slang—not to mention the nights when she would pour over Lynn’s surprisingly large collection of miscellaneous science textbooks with Lynn’s translation help—have paid off.

“It’s fun,” she replies simply, unable to explain the feeling properly. For all of her vast vocabulary, Allura never could describe the plethora of emotions she felt when learning how to pilot the Castle of Lions, and the same stands even now with the electric motorbike.

“I’ll tell you what,” Lynn says suddenly. “How about you drive us back after we finish shopping?”

Her eyes light up, and Allura can’t help the truth that slips from her lips. “I’d love to.”

Their journey into the dazzling world of shiny jewelry and vibrant clothes begins fairly well. Venturing into yet another clothing shop, Allura is honestly amazed at the myriad of clothing styles that humans have; moreover, she can’t helped but also be impressed by how  _ many _ people are at the mall. Rather than just a small adventure, shopping seems to be almost a social event.

As they dart from shop to shop, Allura passes by several families, all of whom seem engrossed in their various activities. Some children swarm the shops with video games—Lynn had taken the time to educate her about those—while the parents sigh exasperatedly, reminding them that they could only “pick one,  _ yes, _ just one because we already have a lot at home, young man.”

A pang of sadness strikes her heart, but it’s buried when Lynn tugs her arm and draws her attention to the food court. “You’ve been stuck eating my cooking the entire time,” she says, patting Allura on the back. “How about I introduce you to some other Earth food?”

She sees the flicker of understanding and sympathy in the brunette’s eyes, and suddenly her throat feels a little choked. “That would be wonderful,” Allura manages, blinking back tears. “Thank you, Lynn.”

Lynn gives her another warm smile.  _ Both she and Adam seem to never run out of kindness, _ Allura can’t help but think.

“Hey, old man! Guess who’s here again?” Lynn asks cheerfully, approaching one of the food court’s restaurants. Allura’s eyes grow round at the woman’s casual tone, but the man at the counter doesn’t seem to mind.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve seen your face around,” the older man replies, raising an eyebrow. His tone sounds almost fatherly; Allura can’t help but wonder how long the two have known each other. “How have you been, Lynn? And who’s the girl trailing you?”

“I’ve been taking care of her for the past few weeks. She’s looking to join the Garrison eventually,” Lynn confides.

When the man turns to her and holds out his hand, Allura smiles and shakes it firmly. “Laura Juneau. Please, feel free to call me Laura.”

Lynn stares at her for a second, then shrugs.

“And I’m Enele Fepuleai, but just call me Enele,” he introduces himself. “My nephew’s looking to join the Garrison too, actually, in a year or two! He’s trying to be a mechanic, though. Now that I think about it, you two look around the same age.”

“If we happen to cross paths, I’ll be sure to greet him,” Allura promised kindly. “What’s his name?”

The man obviously cares a lot for his family, if his fond smile is any indication. “His name’s Hunk. Sweet kid.”

“Now that greetings are out of the way,” Lynn cuts in, feigning a swoon. “We’re starving, Enele. Please save us from the clutches of hunger.”

“Dramatic as ever, aren’t you, kid?” he laughs, but nevertheless, he yells something in another language to the cooks in the back. Allura still can’t help but feel amazed by the sheer amount of languages that Earth has to offer; though their alphabetization is obviously different (Lynn had helped her with reading at first, but thankfully, they share similar vocabulary), humans’ English is only the tip of the iceberg.

There are so many different cultures intermingling on Earth, even in this very mall. It’s humbling to see such harmony that not even the Alteans achieved.

“How long have you known each other?” she asks.

“Since Lynn and Adam were tiny preteens,” Enele snorts. “How many years ago was that...eleven? Twelve? I still remember how desperately the kid tried to stop her from shoplifting for fun. How’s Adam doing, by the way?”

“Still pining over Shiro,” Lynn comments with a sigh.

_ “Still?  _ How long has it been?”

“Three years and counting,” she groans. “You’d think the two would catch a hint. They’re not even  _ dating  _ yet, god. Do you understand what I have to go through every time they stop by together? They’re like an old married couple without even realizing that they’re married.  _ Here, let me help. Oh no, I couldn’t let you do this. I want to.  _ Then they give each other these puppy dog eyes whenever they don’t think the other person is looking.”

During her tirade, Lynn performs various dramatic hand gestures to accompany her words. Allura hides a smile behind her hand.

“You poor soul,” Enele says sympathetically.

“I’m so tired of being a third wheel,” Lynn bemoans. Then, she brightens. “Then again, I have A—Laura with me, now.”

Allura hums thoughtfully. “I still haven’t met Shiro.”

“He’s coming with Adam this visit, don’t sweat it. By the time they leave, you’ll be charmed by that chivalrous ass, Adam and Shiro will act even  _ more _ in love, and I’ll have to console another lovestruck teenager.”

“Hey, I won’t  _ fall _ for this...Shiro...person,” Allura protests, feeling a bit offended by Lynn’s quick dismissal.

“We all do, at some point or another,” Lynn says with another sigh. “It’s like a phase that every acquaintance of his has to go through at least once. The man’s a living Adonis...not to mention the epitome of a knight. Let’s put it this way: if I had to classify him as a video game archetype, he’d be a paladin, no question about it.”

Allura nods, then pauses. “Paladin?” she echoes.

“Staple character class, usually a Warrior type. Heavy armor and arms, slow as fuck, that kind of stuff.”

“Paladin,” Allura repeats to herself. 

_ Where... _

It strikes her like lightning, and she can’t believe that she had  _ forgotten _ about Voltron for a solid few weeks.

_ I must find Voltron. _

Even if Zarkon and his forces are defeated, surely one of the Lions could bring her home  _ (or whatever that’s left of it). _ Once she’s cleared by the Garrison for missions, perhaps she’ll be able to persuade them in allowing her to search space; she’ll find it. She needs to find it.

It’s one of the few remnants of her father that she has left.

Lynn notices her expression. “A...Laura?”

“Just a bit hungry,” Allura says quickly.

“Well, perfect timing!” Enele exclaims, setting down two plates of...something. “Traditional Samoan chop suey, just for you two.”

“Perfect!” Lynn claps her hands together, her smile growing wider. “Thanks, Enele.”

The afternoon passes by quickly, and by the time they walk out of the mall, they’re carrying several miscellaneous bags and conversing with broad grins. Allura can’t recall the last time that she has felt such unrestrained joy; though occasionally memories of her forgotten home dim the excitement of their escapades, Lynn always seems to notice when her thoughts are veering into dangerous territory and quickly steers her back on track.

“Okay, kiddo. It’s all yours,” Lynn says, holding out her keys. They dangle tantalizingly in front of Allura, and for a moment, she can do nothing but stare. Then, a hesitant smile blooms on her face.

She inserts the key in the engine, the vehicle immediately responding and roaring to life. Lynn clambers onto the seat, casually seating herself behind Allura as the silverette tests her grip experimentally. The vehicle hums; though it doesn’t feel  _ alive _ like the Castle, Allura feels a connection to it.

Without warning, she slams on the accelerator and they fly through the streets, darting back and forth between other drivers daringly. The bike precariously wobbles as Allura finds her rhythm, and  _ sure, _ she may not be driving in a completely straight line, but for once, the Altean princess is  _ living. _

Her worries, her fears, and everything else that plagues her fly away, left behind in the dust that the motorbike kicks up.

Behind her, Lynn whoops in ecstasy, completely fine with disregarding the fact that they’re probably breaking at least five traffic laws. They nearly crash into a building  _ (twice!) _ when Allura rounds the corner, but once they’re in the clear and out of the city, everything is smooth sailing. 

They practically fly through the desert, zooming past shimmering dunes of sunset orange and gold. The sun, descending ever so slowly, paints their faces a warm shade of burnt orange. The slightly cooler wind breathes a promise: soon, dusk will arrive.

Just like before, Allura feels  _ alive. _

The vehicle’s controls are near intuitive; they glide past prickly cacti and jagged rocks and soon, the city disappears from view completely.

After what feels like barely any time, the little silhouette of Lynn’s shack appears in the horizon, growing closer and closer. When they draw close, Allura swerves to the right, narrowly avoiding knocking over the basin they use to wash clothing. They skid to a stop in front of the door.

“Adam would totally kill me if I told him that I let you do that,” is the first thing that slips out of Lynn’s mouth, paired with a breathy laugh.

“He would kill you, indeed.”

She freezes.

_ “...heyyy,  _ long time no see, cuz!” the blabbermouth brunette babbles. “Wow, you look nice today. Real commanding in your uniform. Hot, hot. Showing off, much?”

Adam, standing on the porch, shoots her an unimpressed look. It’s the whole package: raised eyebrows, thinned lips, and crossed arms. Allura’s faintly reminded of Coran.

“So...uh, how long have you been waiting for us?” Lynn tries.

“Two hours,” says a different voice from behind her. Allura whips around, prepared to lash out at the source of the voice, but a toned arm grabs her hand before she can strike at him. She’s prepared to say something—she  _ really _ is—but the words die in her throat as she meets the gaze of a relatively tall, definitely physically strong Earthling.

“You must be Allura,” he says, giving her a disarming smile. He holds out a hand, and automatically, Allura shakes it. His grip is firm. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Nice to meet you; I’m Takashi Shirogane.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *drops this two days before season eight*  
> *waits patiently for all headcanons to be proven false in whatever garrison scenes we get*


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura will forge her own path.  
> (And they will help her.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gotten over my lack of inspiration in the wake of Season 8.
> 
> This fic will diverge from canon, become a fix-it, and still keep the characters in-character while giving them proper development.

Takashi Shirogane quickly becomes “just Shiro” within the next two hours. Allura suddenly understands Lynn’s woeful observations about the male’s charisma; Shiro has a sort of confidence and gravitas that naturally makes people defer to him. Whenever he speaks, she feels compelled to listen. Whenever he laughs, her chest feels lighter.

Shiro is everything that a leader should be and  _ more. _

It’s amazing. With rapt attention, Allura watches the male do the impossible, calming down both Adam and Lynn during their dinner and acting as a buffer whenever the conversation gets heated. She must learn how to act as he does; Shiro is a gifted leader, and a skilled commander.

Allura can’t help but think that he would do well as a Black Paladin, but then she remembers the  _ last _ one and winces. Perhaps, it is a bit too early for her to be thinking of such matters: she’ll probably be stuck on Earth for at least a few years, considering how basic their technology is. It’s not fault of the Earthlings, of course: they’re bright, and considering that they never had any contact with other alien species, Allura’s awed by how much they have accomplished by themselves.

However, it’s frustrating to know that there might be Galra forces still out there, conquering and destroying worlds while she’s stranded on Earth, unable to do anything to stop them.

Shiro’s voice draws her out of her thoughts.

“So, Laura, is it?”

“I believe it would be best for me to use a different name just in case,” Allura explains. Usually, she would’ve been wary enclosing such secrets to a stranger, but she trusts Adam’s judgment.

It’s somewhat jarring, how fast these humans have endeared themselves to her. Allura doesn’t feel at home here (she doesn’t think she’ll  _ ever _ feel at home while chained to the ground, unable to explore the vast expanse of space), but she does feel welcomed. Despite the fact that Adam, Shiro, and Lynn have known each other for at least six years, they don’t exclude her from their conversation. 

Shiro nods in approval. “I take it, then, that you’re going to try for the Garrison.”

“Undoubtedly. I want to be a pilot.”

“All of the kids who apply as fighter pilots have innate talent.”

Allura likes his tone. Shiro’s not discouraging her from entering: he’s just listing facts, plain and simple. 

She appreciates that. 

Straightening her posture, she musters the strength and resolve to look at him square in the eyes. “I don’t know how I’d measure up to them, but I’ve always been told that I’m a fast learner,” she replies solemnly.

Shiro smiles. “How about we test that?”

* * *

Shiro and Adam have brought some kind of flight simulator. When Allura first sees it set up in the “backyard,” she’s somehow reminded of the days when her mother would guide her in piloting the Castle of Lions. She’s not sure  _ why _ those memories come to mind: the Earth technology is undoubtedly cruder and...uglier. Then again, maybe she’s reminded of those times because of the people standing beside her, not the device.

Lynn whistles, immediately jogging over to the flight simulator and examining the machine. “Man, I’ve always wanted to look at this! You guys sure didn’t hold back, huh?”

“I figured that if we’re to get Allura back into space, she’ll need the best training,” Shiro explains. He turns to her. “They don’t authorize many deep-space missions, so you’ll need to be the best of the best.”

“Hell, they haven’t even sent  _ you _ on one, yet,” Lynn laughs. Shiro shrugs. Out of the corner of her eye, Allura notes how Adam’s smile lessens a fraction.

“I’m grateful,” Allura cuts in. A smile graces her lips. “Thank you very much, you two.”

“We’re not supposed to give preferential treatment, so once you get into the Garrison, try to keep the fact that you know Shiro and I down,” Adam explains. “Or, uh, at the very least...try not to mention that we brought this here. The higher-ups will have our heads.”

_ Then...why…? _

Lynn manages to read her thoughts. “Listen, Allura. We’re not saints, or anything like that. If possible, we’d love for you to introduce us to your alien tech, for Earth to interact with aliens, yada yada.” 

Adam picks up where his cousin left off, setting a hand on Allura’s shoulder comfortingly. “But that’s  _ your _ decision to make, and we don’t think the Garrison will give you the freedom to make that decision if we told them about you. So instead...we’re going to try our hardest to get you home, okay?”

_...home. _

For a second, Allura considers an alternate path. She could live on Earth and be happy, probably. Lynn would be happy to house her, and who knows? Maybe Allura would fall in love, start a family, and live in blissful ignorance for the rest of her life. She’d be  _ happy. _

But Allura knows that she wouldn’t be, not truly. Not when a threat might be lurking just out of sight, not when there could be innocent people getting hurt, not when she wouldn't  _ know. _ Allura’s ultimately a goal-driven person, and though living in mundane, idle peace sounds like the perfect ending for some individuals, she knows that it isn’t for her.

Allura’s ambitious and independent, and she wants to  _ change _ things. She wants to  _ help. _ She wants to  _ know. _

“Yes...thank you,” she repeats, feeling almost like a broken record. Whenever she thinks that they can’t be kinder, these Earthlings somehow prove her wrong.

* * *

Challenging the flight simulator is  _ nothing _ like piloting the Castle of Lions. Allura's first ten attempts are what Adam later confided in her to be “some of the worst times I've ever seen.”

Thankfully, true to her word, Allura is a fast learner.

_ “Holy— _ Shiro, Adam, do you see this? She was literally failing at level one twenty minutes ago and now she's breezing through level six!”

Allura's lips twitch upwards as she veers to the left, narrowly dodging an incoming asteroid. Her grip on the wheel, unlike before, is relatively relaxed; she's finally gotten the hang of piloting the virtual vehicle. 

“Level eight?!?  _ How?” _

Adam whistles. “First that Keith kid, now her? The Garrison’s going to have a field day.”

Allura grimaces as she  _ barely _ manages to dodge another virtual asteroid. “Keith?” she repeats.

“You’ll probably meet him at the Garrison.”

She glances at them, letting her ship crash. “Does that mean that I’m in?”

Adam and Lynn turn to Shiro, automatically deferring to his authority. The taller male doesn’t even hesitate: he offers his hand to her, approval glinting in his eyes. “Welcome to the Garrison, Laura.”

* * *

“So,” Lynn says casually as they all manage to squish around the kitchen table for breakfast. “How long were you two going to wait before telling me that you’re banging?”

“Lynn!” Adam hisses, swatting at his cousin. His scarlet cheeks betray him.

Shiro laughs, taking it in stride. “How’d you guess?”

“I’ve known Adam since I was born and I’ve known you for several years,” she explains vaguely. “But you guys are  _ not _ discreet. Allura noticed too, didn’t you?”

“...I wasn’t sure if it would be appropriate to ask,” Allura admits. Adam shoots her a scowl.

“Takashi and I figured that we should keep our relationship to ourselves for a bit,” Adam explains. “It’s only been two weeks, after all, and the Garrison’s no place for public fraternization. It’s not like we’re hiding it, or anything, but...well, you know. There’s no need to go around advertising your relationship.”

“Such a boring, private couple you are,” Lynn teases.

“I think it’s lovely,” Allura comments supportively. “As long as you two love each other, I don’t see why the semantics of the relationship matter.”

Adam beams. “Exactly.”

“Have you been adjusting to Earth well, Allura?” Shiro suddenly asks. Though he addresses the question to her, he also glances at Lynn.

“Lynn has been a great help, and I truly do enjoy the cuisine here,” Allura answers, nodding at the brunette. “Even so, I need to return to space. It’s my duty.”

“You keep saying that.”

“What do you mean, Adam?”

“Your duty. You’re not just referring to your kingdom, are you?”

The atmosphere suddenly grows more tense. Allura bites her lip, unsure of how much she should divulge, but  _ really-- _ these Earthlings have helped her and seem to have good intentions. What’s the harm in enlightening them a bit about the universe beyond them? Should Earth ever be attacked (which she sorely hopes will never happen: considering their current technology, they’d be annihilated by practically any other race), they would be more amply prepared if they had foresight and knowledge about universal politics.

“I do not know how long I stayed in that pod,” Allura says. None of the three adults stop her, listening closely; they don’t look intimidating, though, and their eyes urge her to continue. “But nevertheless, it must’ve been long enough for my cryopod to land here. Most probably, someone ejected it from the Castle of Lions...whether it be on accident or on purpose, it matters not.”

“Castle of Lions?”

“It functions as both our royal palace and our most glorious ship,” Allura explains. “Only members of the royal family may operate it. When I was first put to sleep, my people had been attacked by the Galra Empire.”

Hatred flashes in her eyes for a moment, then she controls her expression. “They were led by Emperor Zarkon, a wicked and cruel being who aims to control the universe. The Galra had subdued several planets before my father finally confronted Zarkon. Zarkon wanted a...superweapon of ours, one that we were not willing to part with. We sent it far away, out of Zarkon’s reach. Ultimately, our negotiations failed, and Altea was invaded. I...I know not of my people’s fate, as father put me to sleep in the cryopod during the invasion, but I’m sure that most of them were decimated.”

Silence reigns in the room. Allura doesn’t want their pity, but when Adam grasps her hand and smiles, she realizes that it’s sympathy, not pity, that shines in their eyes.

Allura clears her throat. It feels a bit hoarse. “Any other questions?”

Shiro hesitates, then asks, “Is this Zarkon guy still alive?”

Allura sighs, glancing out of the window towards the sky. She suddenly feels heavier, as if a weight’s been placed on her shoulders. “That’s exactly what I want to know.” She turns back to them. “That is why I _must_ return, no matter what. I must find out what has happened. And if the Galra are still alive, then I must find the Lions and reunite them.”  
“Lions? Is this about the superweapon?” Shiro’s quick enough to decipher her contemplative mumbles.

Allura nods grimly. “Yes. When combined, the Lions form a...robot, I suppose you may call it, that is more powerful than anything else in the universe.”

She tilts her head, coming to a decision. Though she’s never trusted her judgment, Allura knows deep in her heart that everything is up to  _ her _ now. And if she’s the one “calling the shots,” as Earthlings say...

A smile curls on her lips. “We call it Voltron.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave a review <3

**Author's Note:**

> bloop, my first multichapter contribution to kallura


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